


Almost Their King, Now His Prisoner

by kissartbutts



Category: Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Child Abuse, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jötunn Loki, Loki Feels, Loki and Thor Are Not Related, M/M, Manipulative Loki, Minor Violence, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Child Abuse, Prince Loki, Thor Feels, Thor Is Not Stupid, Threats of Rape/Non-Con, Threats of Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-13
Updated: 2015-09-13
Packaged: 2018-02-12 16:56:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2117649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissartbutts/pseuds/kissartbutts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When his coronation was interrupted by two frost giants trying to steal the Casket of Winters, the would-be king of Asgard was furious. This was just further proof of what he already knew; Jotuns were cruel, wicked, manipulative monsters that would be better off dead. But when he found out that his father had simply executed the two offenders and excused Jotunheim of their actions, he was more than just furious. </p><p>A beginner fanfic featuring Thor as Loki's prisoner and Loki as the prince of Jotunheim. Includes eventual romance, revenge, manipulation, abuse of italics, and more to be listed later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Introductions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thor is captured and brought to Jotunheim as a prisoner, where he meets the king and prince of Jotunheim himself. After brief introductions and lack of pleasantries, Loki and Thor have a little chat. Even if it's mostly just Thor being pissed and Loki making it worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rewrite! Changed some wording and indentation, so just skip to Chapter 4 if you've already read the first three.

When his coronation was interrupted by two frost giants trying to steal the Casket of Winters, the would-be king of Asgard was furious. This was just further proof of what he already knew; Jotuns were cruel, wicked, manipulative monsters that would be better off dead. But when he found out that his father had simply executed the two offenders and excused Jotunheim of their actions, he was more than just furious.

His father was a wise man, but Thor knew Odin's guilt was hindering his judgment and the prince couldn't tolerate that. If his father couldn't see that the peace treaty was broken as soon those Jotuns stepped foot into Asgard, then he would have to take matters into his own hands.

Surely, his father wouldn't be _too_ upset, if Heimdall knew what he was planning and still granted Thor access. It was unlikely the gatekeeper actually believed Thor was just going to have a little talk with Laufey. And as much as he wanted to, Thor didn't bring his friends with him. They would only end up in trouble once he was discovered, so it was best to spare them Odin's wrath.

If the prince had known that he would end up bound and kneeling at Laufey's feet, he might have reconsidered.

"My lord, we found this Asgardian trying to enter the palace," one of the guards surrounding him declared. "He claims to be a prince of _Asgard_." The last word was a sneer.

Their king remained impassive, arching a brow at Thor's attempts to break his binds. There were two pairs of shackles keeping his arms trapped behind his back and his legs chained together. He had no idea where Mjölnir was being kept, but that didn't matter. He couldn't do anything with her without the use of his hand.

The Jotun king grinned, as if remembering something. "Prince of Asgard? He must be here to demand _why_ he remains a prince," he mused.

The reminder made Thor's blood boil even hotter. There was the overwhelming urge to destroy everything around him--to remove the cold iron digging into his skin, bash in the king's face, and silence the guards snickering in front of him with his fists. He tried standing on his feet, only to fall back down to his knees.

It just served to infuriate him further and he couldn't help but shout, "If you know what is good for you, you will release me, you wretched beasts! I am Thor, Son of Odin, and first heir to the--"

"We know who _you_ are, Son of Odin."

Immediately, the guards whipped around and grew silent, raising their fists to their chests as a sign of respect. From where he was kneeling, Thor twisted around to catch a glimpse of whoever cut him off.

When he did, his eyes widened.

It was another frost giant, except this one was much smaller and looked more Aesir. His body was slender and slightly toned, different from the bulk of his kin. The raised lines on his skin seemed less prominent as well and he had long, silky tresses of black hair flowing over his shoulders and down his back, unlike the usual baldness of Jotuns. There were two long, curved horns protruding from his forehead, decorated with golden bands that matched the chains around his neck. His chest was bare, like the other Jotuns, except below it was a large, bronze belt securing an emerald skirt that dropped down to his knees and split open at the sides.

This frost giant—a runt, he presumed—was obviously royalty.

His beauty—no, his differences, Thor reminded himself—only made the runt seem more intimidating. He was all power and grace as he strode down the icy halls. Thor imagined it was mostly for show. The guards didn't fear this runt; it was more likely they feared what their king would do if they disrespected him, if the little giant was royalty.

Said king had also noticed the other's entrance and nodded briefly when the little Jotun pressed a fist to his chest and dipped into a formal bow. With his proximity, Thor was starting to see just how _thin_ the skirt was.

"Loki," the king acknowledged. The runt straightened and turned to face Thor. His eyes were maroon, like the other Jotuns, and the intensity of his stare was unnerving. If he didn't know any better, he'd say "Loki" looked ready to devour him whole.

He wouldn't be surprised if that's what the Jotun's intentions were.

Without taking his eyes off Thor, the little giant said, "My king, allow me to deal with the prisoner." He came closer, stopping just a foot away from Thor. From his position on the floor, the runt towered above him and seemed at ease, as if the Mighty Thor was of no threat to him.

Thor felt another surge of anger well up in his chest.

"I am no prisoner," he growled. "And it would be in your best interest, little runt, to release me this instant."

The runt actually _chuckled_ at that. He bent down to look directly into Thor's face, as if he were speaking to a child. It was clear that this creature thought he was superior to an Asgardian, and an Asgardian prince, no less. In that moment, Thor had never wanted to punch someone so badly.

"Little runt?" The Jotun smiled cruelly at him, but didn't bare his teeth. "You obviously do not know who _I_ am, Son of Odin." The honorable title sounded like an insult coming from the other's lips. Yet what irked him most was that, aside from the caustic voice, there were no visible signs of aggression of fear.

"I am Loki Laufeyson, Crown Prince of Jotunheim and possibly your only hope at survival, prisoner."

Thor glared at him with murderous intent and, well, it'd be a lie to say the feeling wasn't somewhat mutual.

What Thor didn't realize was that despite his calm exterior, Loki was very tempted to smack the other prince across the face. In the end, he decided against it. Not because it was a very pretty face with fascinating blue eyes, it's just that he had more control than a certain king sitting behind him.

The _little runt_ comment hit a sore spot with Loki,  not only because it was true, but because it just went to show how ignorant the Asgardian prince was. He knew what Thor was thinking, that a runt like him only commanded respect because he was the king's son.

He had _earned_ that respect himself.

It had taken years to rise above the mockery and disregard that came with being the only runt in his realm. He had to prove to his people that what he lacked in strength, he made up for in intellect. What he lacked in offensive combat skills, he made up for in evasion and sorcery. Though every Jotun was expected to be a powerful warrior, he had shown them that beauty and manipulation could be just as powerful weapons, ones that he had mastered wielding.

Every fool who mistook him for inferior knew this now (or at least most of them did), and he would make sure that this brute learned the same.

It was time for the cocky prince to learn a little lesson in respect.

However, the prince in question knew nothing of this and continued to insult the Jotun prince. "I care not, little giant." Loki had stood up from his crouch, still wearing that insufferable smirk on his face. The runt didn't seem the least bit afraid of him.

Thor planned on changing that soon enough.

"If you hold me captive any longer," he threatened, "you will have to face the wrath of the Allfather."

Loki grinned down at him and asked, "Are you certain of that? Because if the Allfather is as wise as they say, I would think he'd leave you here to teach you a lesson."

As loathe as he was to admit it, the runt's words made sense. His father was always more willing to let Thor learn from his own mistakes and not step in until necessary. Still, he argued, "My father would not do that."

"Maybe he would not leave you here forever, but just for awhile," Loki added. "Just until you learn that violating peace treaties does indeed have its consequences."

Before he knew it, Thor was shouting again. "I came here to find out why it was frost giants who broke into our vaults—I did not violate any treaty!"

"Then explain why one of _my_ guards has a shattered nose and five broken ribs."

Thor paused, remembering the incident Loki was referring to. The guard was being petty and making jeers about his manhood. He thought he had every right to respond with a hammer to the Jotun's ugly face.

Judging from the look he gave Thor, the Jotun prince didn't feel the same.

Loki's eyes narrowed as he crossed his arms. "A verbal attack does not warrant a physical response," he sneered. "I am sure your father is sensible enough to know this. You physically attacked a Jotun on their territory and therefore, _you_ have violated the treaty."

Again, he knelt down in front of Thor and this time, Loki grabbed his hair harshly. Dragging him closer, he whispered, "And do you know what terms of violation state, _little prince_?" His voice lowered menacingly. "Any punishment we seek to be fit. I can disembowel you right here, leave you a broken, bloody mess for all to see--"

"Enough, Loki." The king's warning was enough to shut Loki up. For all of five seconds.

"My point, Son of Odin, is that you are now our prisoner and it would be in _your_ best interest to humble yourself before us and show a little respect to those who decide your fate."

The runt, Thor noticed, had an annoying talent for using his own words against him.

" _Loki_ ," Laufey repeated, the unspoken threat clear in his voice. Finally, the runt stood up and turned his back to the Asgardian prince. Thor ground his teeth together to squash down an angry retort. He didn't want to give Loki the benefit of a reply.

Laufey spoke again and commanded, "Lock the prisoner up in the dungeons. We will decide what to do with him later.

"Yes, my king," Loki replied, offering another polite bow. With that, he spun around and knelt down to undo the chains around Thor's legs. Thor was no idiot; there was no use in trying to escape with everyone around, especially with his hands still immobilized, and he figured Loki knew that too.

With a few clicks, his ankles were freed. Instead of getting up, Thor shifted so that he was sitting on the icy ground instead of kneeling.

The runt seemed unimpressed.

Condescendingly, he told Thor, "You can either come with me willingly or I can knock you unconscious and drag you to the dungeons. Which will it be?"

Shooting the little giant another death glare (as if he had ever stopped), Thor reluctantly stood up. It pleased him a bit to see he was a few inches taller than the Jotun runt.

Loki grinned his approval at Thor's compliance. He pulled a strip of red cloth out of nowhere and tied it around his prisoner's eyes. "If you do manage to escape, I can't have you knowing your way around the palace," he explained.

Escape of not, he _would_ get out of there. Thor would make sure of it.


	2. Strategizing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble occurs when Thor makes a bold move to escape and Loki decides to lay down some ground rules. In other words, he tries to scare the shit out of Thor. There’s a tiny warning for a mild description of graphic violence—I don’t think it’s too unsettling, since there’s only so much I can write without chickening out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much rewritten here.

Surprisingly, the dungeons were much warmer than the rest of the palace. Thor guessed it was because they used to keep Asgardians down here. After all, it wouldn't be any fun to torture them if they froze to death first.

The hand on his back disturbed his thoughts and tightened on his shirt to keep him in place. Stripped of his armor, all he had left was his cotton undershirt and thick pants. Vulnerable was an understatement as to what he was feeling. The shackles around his wrists dug into his skin with every step.

Finally, the blindfold was removed, and Thor could properly inspect his surroundings.

It looked like a typical dungeon, though Thor had never been in one to truly compare. It was dimly lit, with only a few torches to light the halls and cells. Judging from the stone walls and dirt floors, it was underground. From what he could make out, his own cell had nothing except a tattered blanket to sleep on and a hole in the corner to relieve himself. There seemed to be a row of ten to fifteen cells on the two side walls, each one blocked off by a rusty iron gate, crudely constructed and hopefully easy to break.

As if reading his thoughts, Loki turned to him with a knowing look. "I am well aware of your strength, God of Thunder, which is why your cell will be sealed off with magic to prevent you from getting out...as well as any _magical objects_ from getting in."

So much for summoning his hammer, Thor thought. He ached to have her in his grip again, but he needed to be unshackled to do so.

Just then, a thought occurred to him. If they did plan on keeping Thor down here, they would have to unchain him. Unless they planned on him losing his arms to gangrene. If he was freed, he could try summoning his hammer with the small amount of time he had.

Thor noticed that the guards behind him were different than the guards from before. There were four of them; two males and what looked like two females. He wasn't sure if Jotuns even had females, but these two did have larger, uncovered breasts and smaller loincloths. All of them seemed rather bulky, but they wouldn't be an issue if this worked.

He tensed as Loki unlocked the shackles one by one. Finally, with a couple loud clicks the shackles were removed and the chains fell to the floor.

Not wasting a second, he roared, "Mjölnir!" He turned around and managed to shove the runt out of his way and onto the ground, muscles trembling in excitement as he heard the sharp crack of ground splitting—

Only to be picked up by a large hand and hurled backwards.

The prince's head was thrown forward by the impact, back taking most of the damage as he collided with the hard wall. The pain in his spine was nothing compared to seeing the gate slam shut and flash green. Mjölnir had arrived just a second too late, bouncing harmlessly off the force field.

So close, he thought numbly.

Sprawled on the floor, he saw that it was one of the female guards that had rushed forward and threw him into the cell. She shot him a toothy grin, but turned around and joined the other frazzled guards when the Jotun prince cleared his throat. Loki had already recovered before them.

The other female guard was eyeing the hammer suspiciously and the shortest male was keeping an eye on Thor. The Asgardian prince took a little satisfaction in their new wariness. As soon as Loki started speaking, all four directed their attention back to their prince.

"I am the only one who tends to and deals with the prisoner--you four and the other guards will not lay a finger on him or go anywhere near his cell." Three of them nodded, some looking puzzled by the request.

"My prince," a female spoke up. It was the same one who prevented his escape. "We cannot allow—"

"That is a direct order from the king," Loki added firmly. Like the guard, Thor's brow furrowed in confusion. He didn't remember Laufey saying anything of the sort, unless he missed something while being lead to the dungeon. He doubted it, and it was obvious the female guard did as well.

"It's quite simple," Loki continued, "King Laufey has ordered that I be the only one in charge of the prisoner." More forcefully, he asked, "Do I make myself clear?"

The guards nodded their ascent and replied, "Yes, my prince," in perfect unison. Their prince dismissed them, which left him and Thor alone. Not counting Mjölnir, who was lying uselessly at the foot of Thor's cell.

He watched, unafraid, as Loki stepped up to the bars. Thor took in pride in seeing the dirt smudged on the prince's skirt and the annoyed look on his face. The escape attempt wasn't _that_ pointless, he mused.

"You will brought three meals each day and nothing more. That mangy blanket is where you shall sleep, if you choose to, and I'm sure you can guess what the hole is for," the runt said cheekily. "You're lucky that we have a sewer system, despite what you may have thought. If you have a request, you will ask me politely and not complain if it is denied."

There was a brief pause. Then, just like before, he leaned in close and narrowed his eyes until they were nothing but thin slits of red gleaming in the dark. 

"Finally, if you do try to escape again, you should know that you will not be spared any mercy." A slow, venomous smile spread across Loki's lips. "When you are caught, I will exceed the expectations of every myth you have read about us. I might tear the flesh of your skin piece by piece and force you to swallow every last bit. I could rip your eyes out from their sockets and fill them up with the dust of your bones." He chuckled darkly. "Or perhaps I could chain you up and let you rot away slowly, until you are pleading to eat the dirt from my feet. The possibilities are endless, and you will be conscious for every second. Allfather be damned, I will have you _begging_ for death when I'm done with you." The last part was spat out, lips curling into a twisted smirk.

Thor wasn't afraid, but it would be a lie to say he wasn't a little intimidated. In the scarce light, the sharp contours of Loki's face cast deep shadows, making him look wild and crazed. The rest of his body was barely seen, as if he was just a face looming in the darkness.

Nonetheless, Thor was not one to back down to a challenge.

"Your words mean nothing to me," he bit back, practically smashing his face into the bars to snarl at the Jotun. To his credit, the runt didn't flinch or back away. He raised his brows and smoothed his features into something resembling amusement.

"Maybe not now, but they will soon enough." And with that cryptic statement, he finally took a step back, bringing more of his figure into the light of the fire. Thor couldn't help but notice the yellow light illuminate the smooth curves of his arms, dancing over his hips and slipping down his neck.

He was hopelessly distracted for a moment, until Loki ended with, "I'll see you at supper, Odinson." Shooting him one last sardonic smile, the Jotun prince spun around and exited the dungeon, leaving Thor alone with his thoughts. Well, and the tattered blanket, he supposed.

Upon closer inspection, it was a nice blanket. A bit worn and dirty, sure, and there was a strip of it missing from the edge, but it was long and made of fine material. More like something Asgardian royalty would wear than a meager Jotun. Under the dirt, it was bright red in color, reminding him of the cape he used to wear before it was ripped away in combat with the Jotun guards.

He picked it up and noticed it was long enough to drop down to his ankles. The top of it also dipped down into a familiar "V" shape. Suspicious, he turned it over and, to his horror, there was a tiny golden "T" sewn into the top of the fabric.

Thor didn't even try to hold back his angry howl.

Fortunately, he couldn't see the retreating form of Loki, grinning at the Asgardian prince's reaction as he climbed the stairs to meet his doom. It's a good thing those dungeon walls are so thick, Loki mused.

Truth be told, the walls and ceiling were practically soundproof, leaving Thor in total silence. He could hear his breath coming out in short, angry huffs. He could hear his heart beating wildly in his chest, set off by his rage. Staying angry meant he could ignore the tiny whisper of doubt in the back of his mind. It meant he could ignore the quiet, vicious words promising his doom.

Because of that, he stayed angry.

Thor punched, kicked, and unleashed his wrath on the walls of his cell. He barely registered the blood dripping from his knuckles, or his back screaming in protest. He fought invisible foes and hollered at nothing for what seemed like hours.

When the red cleared from his vision, he slumped down against the unmarred wall. It was magically protected, he realized. Otherwise, the stone would've cracked by now. Thor was well aware of his strength, and the concept of magic wasn't new to him either. He just didn't know that magic could be used for more than playing tricks and healing cuts, like his mother used to do when he was a child.

He could imagine her crouching in front of him now, chastising him gently and taking his bloody fists into her gentle hands. She'd envelop them in a warm glow, and he'd watch the skin slowly stitch itself back together.

Instead, he tore off two strips of his abused cape and tied it around his injuries. He had to block Frigga from his thoughts. It would only upset him, and he wouldn't be able to solve that kind of sorrow with his fists. What he needed was a plan. A strategy.

He obviously wouldn't get anywhere with the same desperate tactic as before. Strategizing wasn't his strong suit, but Odin's beard, he was _not_ going to rot away in a prison, and especially not one in Jotunheim. Not when he was still fresh into adulthood and destined to become king of Asgard.

Perhaps that's why they put me here, he wondered. The runt said that he knew of Thor's strength, so they might plan on keeping him from becoming a king. Yet the Jotun prince also said he knew Thor's father wouldn't leave him here forever. Were the Jotuns planning another war? They couldn't possibly win without the Casket; that's why the Allfather took it from them in the first place.

Jotuns were nothing but cowards that hid behind the power of magical objects. Which, he reassured himself, was different than him and his hammer. Mjölnir might be magical, but it was still Thor who won the battles, whether she was by his side or not.

His thoughts turned to Loki, the insufferable Jotun prince. He was the perfect example of how evil frost giants were, even if he did look Aesir. He was sly, sadistic, and clearly only acted for himself, as all Jotuns did. Ever since he could pick up a sword, Thor knew that Jotuns were incapable of emotions like love and compassion. They only knew hatred and anger, although he was sure they could pretend otherwise for the sake of manipulating others.

Fortunately, he already knew Loki would try to use him; that's why he'd be one step ahead.

The little giant confused him though. Why tell the guards that he was to be responsible for Thor? He supposed the runt might want the thunder god all to himself to torture. Still, lying to their king was an awfully big risk to take. He wasn't sure if Loki hated him _that_ much, but he did come to one conclusion.

The Jotun prince was willing to go against authority, which could work for or against him. It'd work in his favor if the king was crueler and more sadistic than his son. If that were the case, then Loki might keep him from a crueler fate just to be contrary.

However, if Loki wasn't bluffing about before and it was the exact opposite, he'd need to be more careful about how he acted around his captor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to those who gave feedback on the first chapter, and to the person who pointed out it said 1/1 for the chapters. It's been fixed now and I've finished revising this chapter. As always, comments are appreciated. 
> 
> Fun fact: Loki's little speech here is based off his tirade with Black Widow in Avengers.


	3. Frost Bears and Fish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> True to his word (for once), Loki comes down to the dungeons to bring Thor his dinner. Surprisingly, it’s not all that bad—for a frost giant’s meal, of course. It would be even better if Loki kept his mouth shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much rewritten here either.

It was pointless.

The longer he spent trying to come up with a plan, the more frustrated he got. Thor blamed it on his empty stomach, which wouldn’t stop growling at him for the past hour or so. He wasn’t to the point where he was starving, but all of the previous activity was making him hungry.

He occupied himself with more trivial concerns, like whether the runt would even remember to come down and feed him. It’d probably be better if he did forget—the thought of being at a Jotun’s mercy was both humiliating and infuriating.

Except now he was certain that the Jotun prince would visit him, if it meant Loki could mock him. Thor sighed and let his head thump against the wall.

He had no idea if it was day or night on this realm. It was dark when he entered Jotunheim, but it could be morning now for all he knew. When did frost giants eat supper? He assumed they just ate whenever they felt like it, but now he wondered if they gathered together in one room to gorge themselves. That was a disturbing image. Even more disturbing to think about exactly what—or whom—did they  _eat_?

The stories he heard as a kid talked about how they ate innocent Asgardians, specifically Aesir children. He guessed that was to keep him from causing trouble (it didn’t), but wondered if there was a grain of truth in it. Remembering Loki’s hungry stare didn’t really disprove any of those stories. If anything, it just made him more certain of their depravity.

Thor knew he should just refuse whatever the little giant tried to feed him. Who knew what it could be, or what could be in it? It might be flesh of his own kind disguised as another type of food, or it could be laced with poison that would sap away his strength—or worse, slowly drive him insane. Maybe they’d try to make him forget he was prince of Asgard, or maybe—

His thoughts were cut short by the sound of footsteps nearby. Immediately, Thor jumped up, muscles tensed and prepared for a fight. For a split second, he hoped it was a different Jotun; at least they would be somewhat easier to deal with (hideous, for one thing, instead of… _less_  hideous). That hope died when he realized the footsteps were too light and graceful to be anyone other than the Jotun runt.

Loki entered the dungeon seconds later, dimly illuminated by the soft light of the fire. In his hands was a wooden slab carrying a huge chunk of mystery meat and a bowl of something steaming. It actually smelled quite pleasant, though he’d shove boar tusks up his nose before he told the Jotun that. He kept his eyes on the food as the runt came closer to the bars of his cell.

Thor heard the mocking voice say, “I figured you might be hungry after the little tantrum you threw, so I brought you extra.” Thor’s fists clenched, but curiosity won over his budding anger.

He pointed to the food on the wooden slab. “What is  _that_?”

“Just the liver of an Aesir man and a bowl of his daughter’s kidneys, cooked for your pleasure,” he said conversationally. The look on Thor’s face must have conveyed his shock and disgust, for Loki looked like he was fighting the urge not to laugh.

“It’s just frost bear meat and some fish stew,” he amended. Thor was torn between punching the sardonic grin off Loki’s face and asking him what the Hel a frost bear was. He settled for staying silent and glaring instead.

“It has not been poisoned or tampered with,” Loki continued, “and I'm sure you will find it suitable for your cultured tastes, Son of Odin.”

“I will not eat a bite of your pitiful scraps, Jotun.” He wisely refrained from calling him a runt again, but turned his back to emphasize his point. He could still hear the quiet chuckle that followed.

“You mean to starve yourself to death, Odinson? Die an honorable death rather than succumb to a frost giant, is that it?” He heard the wooden slab being placed on the floor. “If you would honestly throw away your chance at becoming king just because of some foolish _honor_ , then you are more pathetic than I thought you were.” 

 

 _That_  got a reaction out of Thor. He whipped around, a nasty reply forming on his lips, but Loki didn’t miss a beat.

“Of course, I can simply force feed you, which is why I highly suggest that you abandon your pride and accept this gratuitous offering.”

“You try that and I will  _break_  your puny hands.”

“I don’t see how you can do that if you cannot touch me.”

“What— ”

In a flash, a blue hand shot through the bars and grabbed his throat.

Sparks of pain burst in his neck, like thousands of needles stabbing him at once. He yelped in surprise. The next second, the hand was gone and the pain was ebbing away, leaving a cold numbness in its place.

The Jotun prince raised an eyebrow and fixed Thor with a patronizing look. “Frost giant, remember?”

How could he forget? The Asgardian prince thought that maybe runts didn’t have the same frost bite to their skin. Clearly, he was wrong.

He was about to reprimand the audacious frost giant for harming a prince of Asgard, but was cut off.

“Now, do I have to prove my point again, or are you going to use that brain you supposedly have?”

When I get out of here, Thor promised himself, I will have that devil’s  _head_ as my trophy.

“Fine, you foul creature,” he grit out. The creature in question smiled triumphantly and bent over to pick up the platter of food, hair falling over his face in the process. Thor had a brief moment to take in the sharp planes of his back before Loki straightened and brushed his hair aside, passing the slab to Thor between the bars. The Asgardian prince snatched the meat and bowl, careful to avoid the other’s hands.

The meat wasn’t entirely unpleasant. It was thoroughly cooked, but much drier and tougher than the boars he was used to feasting on back home. The fish stew smelled divine up close, and tasted even better. He couldn’t fathom what fish was in it, but that didn’t stop him from savoring the mixture of sweet and tangy. He had almost forgotten the Jotun prince was still standing there, watching him eat.

He stopped gulping down the stew to glare and say, “You may leave now.” The little giant ignored him, attention focused on his bandaged knuckles instead. Not liking what he saw, Loki sighed in exasperation. Thor could feel his wounds reopening as his fingers tightened around the bowl.

“You already managed to harm yourself?” He sounded disappointed; Thor was sure he was patronizing him again. “Well, I cannot let you die of infection because you did not tend to it properly. Give me your hands.”

“I am not as stupid as you think, monster. I know you will just use your frost bite again.” Loki rolled his eyes, as if that statement was even more idiotic.

“I’m not going to touch you; I just need to be in close range to heal your wounds.” This was obviously a trap, Thor thought. The Jotun would either damage his hand further or just poke fun at him afterwards for being stupid and weak. He laughed bitterly.

“I would sooner renounce my right to the throne than give into your demands, little trickster,” he shot back. He expected to see the runt smirk and say something cruel, but Loki suddenly looked contemplative.

“Do you promise that?”

“Of course not,” he growled. Ah, the smug look had returned. “The only thing I promise you is a slow, painful death when I am free.”

“Well, as I said before, you would need to be alive to do that,” the Jotun prince remarked. “If you continue to resist me any longer, your wounds will become infected and will be left untreated. Unless you would like to lose both hands, hold them out for me to see.”

Oddly enough, it didn’t sound quite as threatening as Loki’s other ultimatums. The Jotun prince hadn’t lifted his eyes from Thor's hands yet and there wasn’t as much malice in his voice as usual. Perhaps he was finally learning his place, Thor mused. Appeased by this, he put down the bowl and removed the makeshift bandages, poking his hands through the bars.

Sure enough, blood was leaking from the damaged skin again, reopened by the excessive movement of his fingers. The runt regarded it with interest for a few seconds before raising his hands so they hovered a few inches above the wounds. Bright light seeped over his knuckles until it faded into a warm glow. Just like his mother’s magic, he realized belatedly. He decided not to dwell on it and distracted himself by examining Loki instead.

Thor had to admit that when it wasn’t pissing him off, it was a fairly attractive face. Well, for a frost giant, at least. Right now, his brow was furrowed in concentration and his eyes were focused on the task at hand. Loki hadn’t bothered to brush all of his hair back and some stringy locks lay across his cheeks. His cheekbones were very pronounced and, at this angle, he saw the slight crook in his nose, forming a subtle hook. Thin lips were pursed in concentration, and this closely, Thor could see indents pressed into them—possibly from biting his lips, or someone  _else_  biting his…

He ended that repulsive train of thought. By that time, the glow had dissolved and Loki’s hands went back to holding the empty slab. Automatically, Thor reached through the bars to place the bowl on the slab, before he realized what he was doing. The runt seemed to notice as well, if his impish grin was any indication.

“You’re welcome,” was all he said to the thunder god. Despite the utter loathing he felt for the demon in front of him, Thor was compelled to be at least a little grateful. After all, the Jotun _did_ save him from a worse fate. Maybe just to keep a prisoner around for his own devices, but he helped him all the same.

Well, the prince of Asgard would not look away like a fearful child, or begrudgingly mutter his thanks like an ingrate. He looked into Loki’s eyes and said earnestly, “Thank you.”

The fleeting look of surprise on Loki’s face almost made up for his transgressions. Almost.

It only lasted a second, but the prince’s eyes widened and his lips parted in shock. Then, as if remembering himself, he schooled his features into becoming impassive.

“As I said, you’re welcome.” Thor was pleased to see the tension remained in his bony shoulders. “Now, be a good boy and go to sleep. In the morning, I shall bring you breakfast and you  _will_ eat it without complaint.” Not waiting for a reply, Loki whipped around and stalked out of the dungeon.

Thor was too busy reveling in his small victory to get mad at the little boy comment.

Now would be a good time to think of a strategy. But now that the prince was sated, he couldn’t deny the exhaustion creeping over him. It had been a long, taxing day. Though he certainly didn’t trust anyone in this castle enough to fall asleep, it was becoming harder to keep his eyes open. Plus, he would be able to think more clearly if he was well-rested.

He stumbled over and lay down on his makeshift “bed”, surprised that it was still just as soft as it was when he wore it. It was torn in places, and definitely dirty, but at least it was one comfort in this despicable land. It still smelled of Asgard, too. Though his sore body protested the hard floor, he was dozing off just minutes later.

In one of his dreams, he was gleefully bashing in the skulls of frost giants, alongside his friends and family. Even his father was there, courageously riding into battle with his son and slaying their foes mercilessly. Odin slashed Laufey’s eyes out as recompense for keeping his son imprisoned.

In the other dream, he was battling Loki, who had to rely on his cowardly magic just to be able to stand up to Thor, King of Asgard.  Eventually he had Loki pinned, hammer raised above his head and ready to crush the smaller body beneath him.

It wasn’t until he felt a sharp burst of pain explode in his chest that he looked down and saw a huge icicle speared through his flesh.

Loki, pale and hornless, was laughing gleefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loki, you’re not exactly painting your race in a positive light. 
> 
> As difficult as it is for me to write Thor properly, I love writing about his over-active imagination and conflicted feelings towards a certain Jotun prince.


	4. Breakfast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Progress is made over breakfast. Well, somewhat. It's mainly a contest to see who can phase the other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I cranked this out after another sleepless night and edited the other chapters as well. Enjoy!

Loki awakes with a jolt, gasping for air. It was the same nightmare as always, but it still affected him each time. Guilt settled in his chest like a thick cloud, making it harder to breathe as images replayed themselves over and over again, memories of a smiling face, a mouth falling open as dark violet comes out in spurts, splitting and staining blue skin.

Suddenly, he was a child again and a terrified scream bubbled in his throat. Instead of letting it out, Loki bit his lip hard and forced himself to think of something else.

The prince of Jotunheim slipped out of bed and padded over to the narrow window. It was early in the morning, he noted. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, the sky a creamy yellow with pink and lavender streaks. It was surprising that no one had come up to bother him yet. Normally, the king would be up and demanding his presence at this point.

Well, he thought with a grin, I suppose he knows that my presence is needed elsewhere.

He was tempted to make the arrogant prince wait for his meal, but decided against it. After all, his plan wasn't to make the Son of Odin hate him; the exact opposite, in fact. Which, yes, he wasn't exactly making a good impression so far, but every lie had to come with a hint of truth.

The truth was that Loki was Loki. He wasn't nice to people who didn't deserve it, and not even to those who did. He was, however, manipulative and cunning, and he would get what he wanted eventually.

His performance had to be convincing and to do so, he had to be himself.

After brushing his hair, he changed into something nicer: gold hoop earrings, a bronze choker to go with the neck chains, some silver bracelets for his wrists and ankles, the usual arm and leg clasps and a flimsy, ruby skirt (since Odinson seemed to enjoy those). Satisfied with his appearance, he sealed off his chamber doors with protective magic and padded quietly down the palace halls.

This early in the morning, only the palace workers were awake and busy. Everyone else slept in late, except for the king. He's sure Laufey could if he wished to, but the older Jotun liked to keep an eye on his kingdom at all times, as if it would crumble the second he looked away.

Or, he mused, as if it someone would steal it while he wasn't looking.

Loki smiled to himself.

He slipped into the dining hall and confronted Laufey, who seemed determined to ignore Loki's presence for as long as possible. Eventually, the advisor he was speaking with pointed to Loki and, with the king's dismissal, escaped from the conversation.

Loki showed the customary signs of respect, a bow and a fist to his chest. He then craned his head up to see Laufey staring down at him, waiting for him speak.

"My king, chances are that the prisoner has awoken and is awaiting his meal. May I bring it to him?"

Laufey's lips tightened into a frown. "Yes, you may." Then, he added, "But Loki, do not forget about what we talked about last time."

The implications behind that were not lost on Loki.

Wisely, he kept his thoughts to himself and said, "Of course, my king." Then, when he was dismissed, he spun around and made a beeline for the kitchens.

Though he called them the kitchens, they were more like storage areas for their food. There wasn't much actual cooking involved since Jotuns usually preferred their food raw, so it was really just a huge ice box to keep their food from spoiling (even though the palace itself was an ice box). Every evening, hunters returned from the outside and replenished their meager food supply.

That's the excuse he used for taking the last of the food. If it was his turn to hunt this time, he'd go beyond the kingdom and make sure to bring back extra.

Loki wondered about whether he should bring their prisoner the same thing as last time, or be a little more generous. It wasn't like there was much to be generous with; in their harsh climate, all they really ate was fish and frost bears, with the occasional land bird, seal, and any rare treats Loki brought back.

Eventually, he decided on the latter and cooked a good helping of seal to go with the fish stew. The prince seemed to like that the most, to Loki's pleasure. No one could resist his fish stew.

The Jotun realized that he should probably give Thor water to drink with his meal this time. He made sure to boil it carefully beforehand, since Aesir didn't have the same biology as Jotuns did. For them, they could ingest saltwater and excrete the salt from their systems. Aesir weren't as fortunate.

Which was unfortunate, since it was a complicated process that he had barely picked up during his brief hunts on Midgard. Trying to remember how the humans did it, he put water in a canteen and started a fire below it.

Next, he placed a makeshift hose into the canteen, securing it under a sheet of ice. If the hosed moved during the process, he'd have to start over.

Setting a pan underneath the nozzle, he let the salt water boil over the fire until finally, steam gathered at the top of the canteen and fresh, drinkable water trickled into the pan.

The lengths I go to for my prisoner, he thought with a sigh.

With food and drink in tow, he made the long trek down to the dungeons and prepared himself for the worst. Odinson would, without a doubt, be just as furious and petulant and unpleasant as last time.

Though entertaining, all the same. He'd be lying if he said he didn't get a little enjoyment from seeing the cocky prince suffer.

"Breakfast is here, Odinson," he announced from the doorway. Getting no response, he walked up to the prisoner's cell and was expecting an angry glare or a turned back to greet him.

Instead, he saw the prince of Asgard lying there, drooling in his sleep.

Eyebrows raised, Loki asked sarcastically, " _This_ is the future king of Asgard?"

Sighing, he set the slab of food and drink on the floor, sitting down with it. Well, he supposed he could use this time to examine the would-be king.

The man may have been a fool, but what he lacked in brain he certainly made up for in brawn. Arms lying prostrate at his sides, Loki's gaze traced over the hard muscles bulging from tanned skin. There was still dirt and Jotun blood smeared on them, as well as his face. His chest was broad and fascinating to watch as it swelled and collapsed with each breath. Like his arms, the Asgardian's thighs were beautifully toned and looked strong enough to crush a man's skull.

That was both a humorous and enticing image.

While sleeping, Thor's face had lost its angry scowl and had smoothed out considerably. He was all chiseled angles and subtle curves. There were faint traces of baby fat on his cheeks and he could see the beginning of a beard in the prince's stubble. His hair, just shy of touching his shoulders, was the color of the morning sky at sunrise. It was fitting for his eyes, such a pretty aqua blue, that were regrettably closed at the moment.

Or at least they were, until they snapped open and a rough voice asked, "How long are you going to keep staring at me like I am your next meal?"

Loki, to his credit, wasn't startled by the other man. Nonetheless, he had just been fooled into thinking the Asgardian was sleeping and was mentally kicking himself for letting his guard down.

On the outside, he smirked and said, "When you stop looking so delicious." He didn't quite mean it in the way Odinson thought he did, but that was even better. "You know us Jotuns; we just cannot resist the allure of Aesir flesh."

"You are toying with me, little giant."

The new nickname was no better than _runt_ , but he let it slide for now. Loki grinned toothily and said, "Maybe I speak the truth. Either way, I will not be able to enjoy you until we have fattened you up, so eat your breakfast." As he said this, his canines glinted menacingly in the dim light.

To his amusement, the Asgardian squinted at him suspiciously and seemed more wary of taking the food. He was about to tell him the truth, but Thor had scooted closer and grabbed the fish stew off the wooden slab first, ignoring the other delicacies. Loki felt a twinge of pride again.

His attention drifted to the other prince's knuckles. Fortunately, he had kept himself from punching the walls again. It was good to know that the Asgardian wasn't completely stupid. Odinson must have figured out that the walls were enchanted as well, ensuring the prisoner didn't escape.

Loki frowned. He really ought to stop thinking of the prince as his prisoner, even if that's what he was. That kind of thinking wouldn't get him anywhere. He might do better to think of Odinson as something else, like a student. Someone he could teach.

Except that made Loki feel old. In reality, he was probably around Thor's age, at least in physical appearance. He didn't think Asgardians had a concept of age or time. They prolonged their deaths by depending on Idunn's apples. Jotuns knew their deaths could arrive at any moment, hence why they celebrated the days of their birth each time, no matter how old they were.

Thor's voice cut into his thoughts."Is this...seal?"

"Yes," he answered, surprised the Asgardian recognized it. He didn't think they had seals in Asgard, since they were far away from any tundra. "How did you guess?"

There was a squelching sound as Thor tore into the meat, spattering juices without a care. Loki cringed; the Asgardian had worse eating habits than his brethren. After a few bites, the other man answered, "We get seals from other realms, sometimes. They are not found in Asgard, so it is considered a delicacy."

"Odd," Loki commented dryly, "since Jotunheim is the only realm I know of, aside from Niflheim, that has seals."

"Yes, well, Jotunheim is closer and does not have as many hunters guarding their food so carefully," Thor said cheekily, "so we rarely go to Niflheim."

It took all of Loki's willpower not to claw the Asgardian's eyes out.

Trying to remain unphased was a challenge, especially when the other prince had a wide, satisfied grin on his face. This whole time, Loki realized, Asgard had been violating the peace treaty.

The terms were, supposedly, that neither of them could hunt on the other's territory or attack one of their people. They were only allowed to visit each other's realms for diplomatic purposes. But Loki wouldn't be surprised if Laufey had agreed to these secret terms the Aesir spoke of.

Still, here was his kingdom, his people, always on the brink of starvation because of how little game they had now, and the Aesir had the gall to put them at greater risk. They cared nothing for the mouths they were stealing them from. They didn't need more game; it was simply to fill up their fat bellies with more exotic _delicacies_. Ones that were easier to find and kill than, say, frost bears, which Thor had clearly never heard of.

Well, two could play at this game.

"I suppose," he wondered aloud, "that would explain our recent shortage in seals." Mimicking the other prince, he grinned and said, "Perhaps it is fair, since anything from Asgard is considered a treat in itself here."

The smirk fell from Thor's face. "What do you mean?"

Loki chuckled. "Well, Asgard has such a wide selection of game to choose from. Wild birds, boars, deer, wolves, rabbits—rabbit stew happens to be one of our favorite _delicacies_."

Any trace of satisfaction vanished from the Asgardian's face. He thrust forward and snarled, "How dare you! You keep me here for crimes I did not commit and yet—"

"And yet here we are, Odinson, admitting to something as petty as stealing from each other's lands." He didn't add that for Jotunheim it wasn't just stealing out of spite, but necessity. "Seems as if we are more alike than you'd like to admit, yes?"

Thor's fingers closed around empty air, wishing dearly it was the Jotun's neck. The Asgardian prince had no desire to consider the other's words. He didn't need to. He knew Jotun and Aesir were as different as light and dark, fire and ice. The runt was just trying to mess with his head.

"I am nothing like you," Thor ground out, finishing the rest of his meal with haste.

Loki felt as if that just proved his point more, but decided not to tell the other prince that. Instead, he shrugged and watched as Thor placed the empty boll back on the wooden slab. "You did not drink any water," he pointed out.

Thor shot him an irritated look. "I am not stupid, little giant. I know you are trying to poison me with salt water."

Loki resisted the urge to smack his own face in exasperation. "I am not stupid either, little Aesir. I boiled the salt out of your water, so you may drink to your heart's content."

"How can I trust you?"

"You can't, but you don't have a choice. Again, I will force it down your throat if I have to."

Hesitantly, the Asgardian peered down at the pan and took a cautious sip. Loki chose against informing him that even if it was salt water, he wouldn't feel the effects immediately.

Thor downed the drink without a second thought. In that moment, Loki wondered if Odinson knew that Loki didn't plan to kill or torture him. Given his earlier threats, he figured he should clear things up.

"Odinson, believe me, my intentions are not to kill you. In fact, I do not want to lay a finger on you unless I have to."

The Asgardian set the pan down and glowered at Loki. "What are your intentions then?"

"As I have said before, this is punishment for your violation of—"

"No," Thor cut in, conviction in his voice. "It's more than that. I know it is."

Loki smirked and asked, "Because I am a frost giant?"

"Yes, and because you...well, you are worse than the rest of them." Thor tensed, mouth set in a tight line. "I can feel it."

Now Loki was laughing for real. "Oh, Odinson, you flatter me so." Truthfully, he didn't know whether to take it as a compliment or an insult. The Jotun prided himself on mastering the art of manipulation and deception, yet he wouldn't say he was worse than _all_ of them.

This thought, again, was kept from Thor, who seemed torn between staring at Loki with shock or contempt.

Did the Asgardian think Jotuns incapable of laughing sincerely? How cute.

"I may have ulterior motives, and I may not," Loki told him cryptically. "Mostly, I am just here for the entertainment and the chance of shortening your time here."

Immediately, he had the Aesir's attention. "You...what?"

"You think we like having a prisoner to feed, when we barely have enough to feed ourselves? Especially one that eats so much?" Loki allowed himself a wry smile. "I want to get you out of here quickly, and to do that I must ensure you do not disrespect the king when your time in the dungeons is over."

The perplexed look on Thor's face was priceless. "You mean, I am not to stay down here?"

"No," he answered. "Do you not know how our penal code works?" The look on Thor's face told him that he didn't particularly care. "First, you spend time in the dungeon. Then, once you have been deemed fit for release, you take on the role of a laborer and work for the king, as compensation for your crimes. After that, we will send you back to Asgard."

That was all a complete lie, of course. Depending on the severity of their crimes, Jotuns were either put to death or punished publicly and let off with a warning. The only prisoners they ever had down here were war prisoners.

And though Loki had not been alive in those times, he knew that none of them were given the chance for release, unless it was in the form of death.

Still, the explanation seemed to convince the prince of Asgard, who looked both hopeful and distraught. Thor sourly asked, "Are you one who deems me fit for release?"

Now you're catching on, Loki thought. "Yes, and I'll know if you are playing nice just to get out, so do not think you can fool me."

With that, the other man hunched his shoulders and it seemed as if the conversation was over. Loki gathered the dishes and stood up, brushing some dirt off his skirt with a free hand. He had just turned around when Thor's voice stopped him.

"How can Jotuns stand Asgard's warmer climate?"

A little late for that question, Loki mused. He debated whether answering that would be giving away too much too soon.

Well, he supposed Odinson would find out eventually.

"They can't," he told Thor. "Only I can."

"With magic?"

"Yes."

The other prince hummed, taking in that bit of information. Turning back around, he noticed Thor suddenly seemed contemplative.

Paranoia etched itself into Loki's thoughts. What could Odinson possibly do with that information? He was no sorcerer, that was certain, but—

"Loki."

The use of his name caught his attention immediately. "Yes?" He even forgot to tag on the _Odinson_.

Like before, Thor looked him in the eyes as he told him earnestly, "Thank you for the meal."

To his horror, Loki felt his cheeks heat up. Was this to become a daily routine for them? He didn't think he'd be able to handle it.

"You're welcome. Do not expect the same thing for supper," he told him, a bit more harshly than he intended to. Turning around for a final time, he forced himself to walk to the stairs and let out a loud exhale when he reached the top.

Back in his cell, Thor was grinning to himself, feeling rather victorious. So the haughty Jotun prince can be ruffled, it seems. He never knew Jotuns could blush, nor blush that intensely. It was hilarious seeing Loki's face turn a blotchy violet.

Nor did he realize they could laugh quite so charmingly. That, he reassured himself, must have been because of the runt's Aesir features. Or a trick of the light.

Yes, definitely a trick of the light.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shout out to Sigynthefaithful for reminding me to give poor Thor some water. I'm not a science-y person, but here's a few notes about the technical aspects:
> 
> 1\. Loki's referring to a supraorbital gland, which is what allows some mammals to take in salt water. It's kind of like your kidneys, but it removes salt instead. This is my personal headcanon for Jotun biology, as well as some others.  
> 2\. I got instructions on how to purify water from here: http://www.wikihow.com/Turn-Salt-Water-Into-Drinking-Water  
> 3\. This isn't 100% accurate to Norse mythology, since Jotunheim isn't actually a cold tundra with no forest animals. But for the sake of my back story, this is what I'm going with.


End file.
